


Silk

by witchpointe



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M, this came out as pretentious i apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchpointe/pseuds/witchpointe
Summary: "I want you," Hakyeon says, and it comes out as a rush of air.Raising his eyebrows, the boy gives a one-sided smile. "Not even a hello first?"
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Han Sanghyuk | Hyuk
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

> uh. for some reason i imagined this in some sort of weird pseudo 1800s universe. its also the most embarrassingly self-indulgent thing ive ever produced. enjoy my shame.

Hakyeon has always fallen far too easily. 

It's the eyes of the boy that catch him first, those sleek, brown eyes rimmed with kohl and smoked out at the edges, that stare seductively back at the man that shares the couch with him. His head is cocked to the side and resting on his hand, allowing for a gorgeous view of the glowing tanned skin that crawls up his neck to the hard, square line of his jaw.

Then it happens--the boy must feel him staring because he looks over at Hakyeon, merely a movement of his eyes and nothing else. It rips through Hakyeon like the slice of a sword to the chest, feeling like he's been cleft in two. He stands there stupidly, mouth hanging open, the clamor and crowd draining away as if the world itself stopped spinning.

He returns his gaze to the other man, breaking the trance on Hakyeon just as another man steps up beside him. 

"He is booked for the next few hours, I'm afraid," he says, a soft voice in an apologetic tone. "But if you'd like to wait--" 

"What?" Hakyeon asks, backing away slightly. "I--no--"

"Shall we find you another then?"

Hakyeon swallows around the lump in his throat. "I shouldn't be here."

He shouldn't have been at the brothel that night, it was true--but it doesn't keep him from returning, time and again, harboring a drink and watching the boy as he refuses the advances of anyone else. The boy is tall, standing half a head above most, and moves through the room with a powerful stride set off by his delicate clothing. Hakyeon is delighted to find that his smile is charming in a boyish way, and gets close enough once for his voice to leave him breathless.

Soon enough the game becomes stale, as Hakyeon realizes he doesn't have the courage to confront him. What in god’s name is he doing? What could he even say? And surely he could never pay for--

And so he says goodbye to yet another in a long line of silly crushes that never really meant anything. He doesn't believe in love at first sight. It's only that--well, he's lonely. 

But the eyes, they haunt him. Those long fingers caress his skin in his dreams. Every chance it gets, his mind wanders back to that dimly-lit, cosy space, wondering what it would be like to let the boy take his hand and lead him up the stairs. Why would that be so wrong? 

After a while there is simply no denying it. 

The brothel is much more empty this time of night, just as the sun is setting over the horizon. The air, too, is in better quality, with less people there to smoke it up. Boys lounge around on the couches and chairs in their slinky sheer clothing, some more beautiful than others, but none as alluring as his boy. The thought stops him from moving, embarrassed at his own mind. He doesn't own anything.

Hakyeon catches sight of him then, draped over a loveseat looking remarkably enticing dressed in all black, light catching the outline of his form ever so slightly underneath. Perhaps Hakyeon is imagining things, perhaps it is all in his head, but he thinks the boy looks better tonight than he ever has, his rusty auburn hair swept away from his face, presenting his distinct features so prominently, his skin rich against the stark white of the couch.

He forces himself to take one step, and then another, fear entangling itself between his ribs and his heart. He has no place here. He should turn around and leave before he can’t anymore, before he makes a fool of himself, before--

But then Hakyeon is standing before him, only a heavy wooden drink table between them, and the gravity of the boy’s full attention is upon him. He looks surprised for some odd reason, the look softening into a general curiosity as they stare at one another, waiting for the other to speak.

"I want you," Hakyeon says, and it comes out as a rush of air. 

Raising his eyebrows, the boy gives a one-sided smile. "Not even a hello first?"

Hakyeon's hands start to tremble. "Oh, um, hello?" He shakes his head. "I don't know what I'm doing, I..."

The boy slides over to make room for Hakyeon, patting the seat where he had been sitting. "That much is obvious."

Hakyeon sits primly with his hands between his thighs, without leaning back to relax, acutely aware of his body and its relation to the boy's.

The boy doesn't seem to mind. He stays in his relaxed, sprawled position, watching Hakyeon look everywhere except for at him. "So what's your name?"

"Hakyeon." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hakyeon. My name is Hyuk."

Hyuk puts his feet up on the slick wooden table before them, crossing one over the other. His slender toes have rings on them, just like his fingers. Lord, even his feet are pretty. Hakyeon has never thought someone's feet were attractive before.

"Tell me about yourself, Hakyeon."

Hakyeon looks over his shoulder at Hyuk. He looks comfortable, perhaps too comfortable, but his eyes look kind and genuine. Oh, his eyes.

Hakyeon gives a shrug. "There's not much to say. I spend most of my days working at the outpost. It doesn't leave time for much else."

Hyuk coos. "I'd love to see you in uniform."

Scoffing, Hakyeon still feels heat rise to his face. "It's really nothing special. We all wear the same thing." 

Hyuk shuffles behind him and his feet fall to the floor. "May I touch you, Hakyeon?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Hakyeon nods. He stares straight ahead, not really seeing, anticipating, his nerves on edge. Warm, soft fingers cup the back of his neck, squeezing softly. They migrate up into his hair, massaging gentle circles into his scalp. He can't help but sigh and lean back into the touch.

"Relax," Hyuk says into his ear, so faint it's barely a whisper, just movement of lips against Hakyeon's skin. It sends goosebumps down his arm while he leans backwards into the curve of the couch. 

He watches as Hyuk's other arm, draped in the pretty black chiffon, reaches around him to grasp his far arm and pull Hakyeon lightly against him. As he runs his palm up and down Hakyeon's arm, Hakyeon can feel the rise and fall of his chest against his other arm. It's nearly as soothing as the hand in his hair. 

"I rather think you haven't paid for that." 

A large man stands on the other side of the table and makes Hakyeon jump from their own private little world. Hyuk slides his hands away from Hakyeon's body languidly, looking sheepish. He feels cold suddenly in the places that Hyuk's body had been against him.

"I would like to, if you'd let me," Hakyeon says in a small voice. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, the man sounds bored as he recites the rates. "$200 an hour, three hours maximum. You  _ will _ be timed. If you so much as think about hurting--" 

"I--I would never--" Hakyeon interrupts him, hand splayed across his chest in sincerity. 

He huffs. "Don't look much like you could. Not Hyukkie anyway."

Beside him, Hyuk lets out a long-suffering sigh.

"Do I pay you?" Hakyeon asks the man who's still staring him down.

"No," Hyuk answers for him, standing and grabbing Hakyeon's wrist to pull him to his feet as well. "The accountant's up front."

Leaving the brute behind, Hyuk weaves them expertly through the furniture and bodies to a desk set behind the stairs that Hakyeon hadn't seen before. The man sitting behind it looks young and frail, but the man to the left is large and sports a rifle. The mere presence of him has Hakyeon's back straighter, shoulders squared.

The desk top is pristine save for a cash register, and as Hyuk and Hakyeon approach, the frail man pulls out a clipboard and pen and speaks without looking up.

"How long?" 

Hakyeon pulls out his wallet, looking back at Hyuk who is staring at him curiously. He fingers through the bills he has on hand, wishing to god that he had more.

"I, um, I can only afford one hour."

The man behind the desk writes something quickly then hands the clipboard to Hakyeon. It's a rules and regulations and a payment agreement all in one--a hundred upfront and a hundred after the hour is up.

Hakyeon signs the paper, barely skimming it over and handing the money back with it. The man doesn't say anything or even acknowledge Hakyeon, he simply closes the cash register and resumes his stoic posture.

Hyuk laces his fingers with Hakyeon's and leads him again, this time up the stairs. The chiffon robe billows behind him as they ascend. The stairs creak in a way that turns the experience palpable. This is really happening, Hakyeon thinks, as they breach the top.

Across the balcony and down a long corridor he's lead, past doors that all look the same: splintered, whitewashed wood. Hyuk stops before one and turns the knob. 

Inside is sparsely decorated but nicer than the outside at least; a wardrobe is opposite the door and a chair to the right of the entrance. Most of the room, however, is taken up by the large bed.

Hyuk closes the door behind them. It feels final, somewhat suffocating, and the silence from him isn't helping. Hakyeon stands awkwardly rubbing his hands together as Hyuk shrugs off the chiffon robe and lays it over the back of the chair.

Desperate to fill the void of the moment, Hakyeon finds he's talking before he can think. "It's quieter than I thought it would be. Cleaner, too. Do you live here?" 

Hyuk turns back with an easy smile on his face. De-robed, Hakyeon can see the long lines of the muscles in Hyuk's arms. 

"I'll try not to take offense to that," Hyuk says.

Not a breath later and he is in Hakyeon's space, fingers deftly working down the buttons of his shirt. His breath comes hot against Hakyeon's face and when Hakyeon looks up the intensity in his eyes pierces through him. 

Hakyeon jumps back, clutching at his shirt. "No, I--we should talk first," he manages to get out, heart racing. 

"There isn't much to say," shrugs Hyuk. "My only limit is kissing. I don't allow it. Not on the lips, anyway."

That snaps something inside of Hakyeon's chest, something that desperately wanted to feel how their lips slotted together, how he responded to the weight of Hakyeon's tongue.

"Okay. I promise not to kiss you."

Hyuk chuckles. "Thank you. Should we begin? An hour isn't that much time…"

Hakyeon can't help but stare at his lips--so pink, so beautifully arched. Hyuk reaches out and runs his hands through Hakyeon's hair, watching it fall right back into place. Hakyeon stares at the uneven floorboards beneath his feet. Hyuk uses this opportunity to pull him closer by the hips, making Hakyeon jump.

"Touch me. I know you want to." 

An unsteady hand slides from Hyuk's chest down to his stomach. The fingers linger there, unsure. 

"Can I undress you?" Hakyeon asks.

Hyuk smiles warmly. "Please do."

Once the buttons are undone, his shirt slides off easily. The pants are even easier, merely an elastic-waisted wave of gossamer. Hyuk's torso is as lightly muscled and tanned as the rest of him. His thighs are thick and his hip bones pronounced, and he stands naked before Hakyeon without any shame.

"Your turn?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow. 

"Wait."

Hakyeon gathers Hyuk against him gently, carefully, afraid that none of this is real. He kisses down Hyuk's neck, open-mouthed and wet, tasting him for the first time. He pulls a small moan from Hyuk, who leans his head to the side and pulls Hakyeon closer by the small of his back.

Encouraged, Hakyeon bites down on the fleshy part of Hyuk’s shoulder. Hyuk seethes.

"Is that--okay?" Hakyeon asks. 

"Mmm, yeah." Hyuk’s voice sounds lower now, affected, and the idea that he caused it goes straight to Hakyeon's cock. "Just don't leave any marks."

Hakyeon pulls back, taking Hyuk's jaw into his hands. His eyes dart around Hyuk's face, between his eyes, down his nose, staring at his lips--god,  _ god _ , but does he want to kiss him. 

"I want--" Hakyeon starts, but bites his sentence off and looks away.

Hyuk crowds against him, backing him up, all smooth skin and sharp eyes, reaching for the buttons of Hakyeon’s shirt and popping them open.

"What do you want?" Hyuk asks, and it sounds so effortless, like he would give him anything if only he asked. 

Hakyeon's shirt slides off his shoulders as he feels the back of his legs hit the bed. Effectively trapped between the bed and Hyuk, he watches as Hyuk slides off his belt and hooks his fingers under his waistband. 

"What do you want?" he repeats, sliding Hakyeon's slacks and underwear down his legs, squatting with them. It’s harsher this time, bordering on displeased, and Hakyeon is caught between his conscience and his greed.

"I don't know."

"Hakyeon."

He grasps Hakyeon's cock, so much sensation at once, making him cry out and arch his back. 

"How do you want me?"

Hakyeon falls against Hyuk, the last of his doubt leaving him, fully giving in to his desires.

"I want you inside me," Hakyeon whines, faint and pathetic against Hyuk's warm skin.

" _ Oh _ ," Hyuk breathes, genuine with surprise, releasing him and wrapping his arms around Hakyeon's shoulders.

"You don't have to--"

"It isn't that," Hyuk says. "I just don't usually have… that type of client."

Hakyeon stares at him, knowing what he means but unsure what that means for him. 

"Don't worry," Hyuk says, digging his blunt fingernails into Hakyeon's hips. "I would love to fuck you."

Hakyeon tightens his grip on Hyuk's shoulders. "Please," he breathes.

Sliding his hands around to Hakyeon's ass, Hyuk grabs both cheeks and spreads, holding Hakyeon open.

"Have you ever been fucked, Hakyeon?" Hyuk asks, dragging a finger over his hole, releasing hot breath onto his cheekbone. 

Hakyeon gasps, rocking backwards, chasing the touch. "Yes." 

"Well," Hyuk says, lifting Hakyeon and driving him back onto the bed, "you've never been fucked by me."

The implication makes Hakyeon's stomach tingle as Hyuk leans back to gather supplies. He throws them onto the bed and lowers himself back, sitting between his legs. 

Hyuk looks his body up and down with a small smile playing on his lips. Hakyeon has the foolish notion to cover himself up--he has never been ashamed of his form, but Hyuk has him feeling small and vulnerable in more ways than one. To stop himself, he clenches the bedsheets between his fingers.

Hyuk grasps just above his knee, more gentle than his big hands really look capable of. "Your body is lovely."

The bed creaks as Hyuk lies onto his belly between Hakyeon's legs. Hakyeon spreads his legs farther to accommodate him, digging his teeth into his lip when Hyuk rests his cheek on his upper thigh, dangerously close to where his cock lies. 

"Let me suck you off first." 

Hakyeon nods slowly. Hyuk's many rings shimmer in the light before his forefinger dabs at the wet tip of Hakyeon's cock. He brings it lazily to his tongue, closing his eyes and making a sweet sound of appreciation.

As Hyuk's lips swallow the head of his cock, Hakyeon raises to his elbows for a better view. That knife like gaze that had first enthralled Hakyeon is back, and in combination with the velvet heat of his mouth and the agile work of his tongue, sucks loud and needy sounds from deep within Hakyeon’s chest. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he paid for this, knows it is all for show, but the display is so stunning and turns him on so very much that his thoughts become hazy and the lines begin to blur.

So he moans Hyuk's name and pleads with him, staying his hips while encouraging Hyuk with a hand in his hair. Every time he tugs Hyuk groans against his cock, and Hakyeon feels it as fire in his veins.

Hyuk pulls away, lips lingering for a moment. His chin is wet, lips red, hair a mess from the frenzy of Hakyeon's touch. He looks wicked as he gives Hakyeon a full-mouthed grin.

"Not yet," he says.

Hakyeon collapses back onto the bed with an exhausted sigh, and Hyuk laughs--a pleasant sound, deep and throaty. His fingers trail down Hakyeon's balls and lower, stroking at his hole.

Hakyeon rolls down into the touch, head tipped back. He delights in this, the teasing stimulation, the anticipation of being filled.

"Can I?" Hyuk asks, pressing inside ever so slightly.

"Yes," Hakyeon replies, schooling his voice to be steadier than he feels.

Hyuk plucks his rings off his right hand one by one, setting them carefully onto the table. Hakyeon watches his hands work, the large fingers deft in their movements and short fingernails so glassy that surely something is painted on them. Syrupy liquid drizzles down onto his cupped palm, and he works it around his fingers with a practiced ease.

The first finger pulls a small  _ oh _ out of Hakyeon, but it's simply a frustrating echo of what he really wants. He demands more and Hyuk gives it to him, moving quicker and curling his fingers just so, until Hakyeon is writhing and panting before him.

And then Hyuk pulls out and Hakyeon is left horribly empty, clenching around nothing. As Hyuk crawls up Hakyeon's body, Hakyeon babbles at him.

"Please, please, I-- please."

Hyuk hushes him, running a finger down his nose. "Tell me again how you want me."

Hakyeon shifts against Hyuk, legs sticky and hot as he wraps them around his waist. Pure need runs through his veins and the brush of Hyuk's cock against him drives him even higher.

"I need you inside me," Hakyeon whines, far louder than he means to.

Hyuk purrs a sound of satisfaction, running his nose along Hakyeon's jaw. He leans back to slick himself up, and then they are face-to-face again as he slides inside.

Hakyeon hears Hyuk's quiet moan, watches his brows furrow before he's forced to close his eyes and arch at the feeling of Hyuk inside him.

"Oh, _ finally _ ," Hakyeon breathes, sliding his hand up into Hyuk's hair.

Chuckling, Hyuk licks long and slow up the column of Hakyeon's throat. "Your neck is so long," he says, strain clear in voice. He bites down tenderly over Hakyeon's Adam's apple. "Pretty."

Hakyeon wiggles his hips, a thrill running through him to find out he's mostly pinned to the mattress. "You can move."

"Oh thank god," Hyuk says. He tucks his head into Hakyeon's neck.

Slowly he builds a rhythm, dragging against Hakyeon's walls and driving him from his senses. Pleasure blooms and time fades, Hyuk's presence the only anchor--the slap of skin when he drives his hips down, the resonant baritone of his voice as he speaks against Hakyeon's cheek. Hakyeon can't get him close enough,  _ deep _ enough, calling out for it in desperate wails with his fingers set in an unyielding grip on Hyuk's ass. 

A harsh banging comes at the door, followed closely by a gruff voice,  _ ten minutes _ !

"No," Hakyeon pants, panic ripping through him as he clutches himself to Hyuk's chest.

Hyuk's pace falters slightly as he leans back; his hand slips from Hakyeon's thigh to take hold of his cock. "It's okay, baby, I've got you."

The pet name thrills Hakyeon to the tips of his curled toes. Sweat rolls down Hyuk's temple and his exertion is painted in the pull of his brows and the hard set of his mouth. With every stroke of his cock Hyuk pulls him closer to the end. 

It mounts slowly inside him, flirting on the verge of violent, his thighs shaking against Hyuk's sides. As he descends over the edge, he goes stiff into an arch, coming between them with little shouts of rapture.

Hakyeon sinks into the bed, exhausted and pliable, letting Hyuk do as he will. Fingertips seize his waist and drive their bodies together, sharp enough for the headboard to collide with the wall. Hyuk bites down on Hakyeon's neck, using it to muffle his continuous stream of groans as his hips become clumsy, eventually stutter and stop with one last thrust.

Hakyeon pets his hair through it, loving the gentle whines Hyuk makes spilling into him. He sounds so small just then, so young and angelic that Hakyeon wants to hold him to his chest and stroke his back as they come back to reality together.

But the idea is shattered as Hyuk pulls out and stands up, and reality crashes back into Hakyeon on his own--he's in a brothel, Hyuk has done his job, and there is nothing but an amicable sort of business arrangement between them. His chest heavy, Hakyeon takes a slow breath and sits up, only for Hyuk to return and push him back down.

Hakyeon yelps when he feels something cold between his legs, listens to Hyuk's suppressed laugh as he realizes Hyuk is washing him in slow, careful circles.

"You don't have to do that," Hakyeon says quietly, eyes on the slatted wooden ceiling. 

"I know," Hyuk says, a touch of uncertainty in his voice. He folds the cloth inside-out then begins rubbing against the dried come on Hakyeon's stomach. "I don't do it for everyone."

And there's too much to read into with that, too much room for hope for his hopelessly romantic heart, that he bites his lip and wills the flutter in his chest to cease.

"I mean, I don't get to do it often," Hyuk adds, switching to wipe off his own stomach. "You know, I'm usually the only one that needs cleaning up." 

"Of course."

Hyuk looks at the door and then back at Hakyeon, shifting in a nervous manner and running the cloth between his fingers.

"Did I hurt you? Are you alright?"

Hakyeon wiggles onto his side and gives Hyuk his biggest, brightest smile, if for nothing but the fact that the boy is worried about him when he has no obligation. This does nothing to silence his racing heart.

"No, Hyuk," Hakyeon says, "you were perfect." 

Perhaps a suspicious choice of words. Hyuk's mouth slips open and a knowing look clouds his eyes, one that Hakyeon can't stand being subjected to. He crawls off the bed, mumbling about his clothes and how little time they must have left. He stuffs himself back into his clothes, doing his best to disregard Hyuk, still quiet and naked on the edge of the bed.

"Hakyeon," Hyuk says, standing and turning toward him. "You don't know anything about me."

"Yes," Hakyeon says, blinking against the stinging in his eyes and adjusting his bangs. "I'm aware."

He doesn't need anyone to lecture him, to tell him how unreasonable and ignorant he's being, least of all the object of his affection. He knows what this was, he remembers where to draw the line. It's not his fault his heart can't let go of his pretty face. This is altogether mortifying, and he just wants to return home and revert Hyuk to a haunting fantasy he never has to face again.

A series of emotions flit over Hyuk's face, masked too fast for Hakyeon to read them. He approaches Hakyeon and straightens his shirt and collar, a gesture Hakyeon isn’t sure was necessary. His face is unreadable now, as flippant as it was when they first met.

"I've seen you watching me," Hyuk sighs. "I wasn't sure what to make of it before now."

"I'm not--" 

"You shouldn't have come," Hyuk says, as amicably as if they were discussing the weather, and the sting would hurt so much worse if Hyuk's fingers weren't still playing with the shoulders of his shirt. 

The voice from outside yells _ time's up!  _ but neither of them make to move. Hakyeon stares wide-eyed at Hyuk, thoughts still, simply waiting for whatever happens next. 

Hakyeon doesn't dare move as Hyuk lowers his head ever so slightly to touch the smallest ghost of a kiss against the corner of his lips.

"But since you did, I hope you'll come back soon."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Silk on your dress  
> Fingerprints on your neck  
> I'm a prince, I'm a king  
> I'm the fall, I'm the spring  
> I'm your favorite thing  
> It's a dangerous thing  
> ~ Elijah Blond - Silk
> 
> come [yell at me](http://twitter.com/vampiresanghyuk) (especially if its abt chasang)


End file.
